


Woodsmoke and Forgefires

by Jairephix



Series: A More Careful Pen [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Implied miscarriage, Minor Character Death, implied depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-05 12:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15863463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jairephix/pseuds/Jairephix
Summary: Magnus first comes to Raven's Roost.---Part of the A Careful Application of Voidfish AU!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is part of the AU I wrote for A Careful Application of Voidfish. It's not necessary to read ACAoV first!

Magnus Burnsides was a newcomer to Raven's Roost.

That is to say, no one knew where he had really come from, just that he showed up one day with foggy memories with a young, pretty, quiet woman who kindly informed those who asked and wanted to just share that good ol' rustic hospitality with her, that she was family.

"My brother is...well, he's been through some trauma lately. He needs a place to start new," The woman explained to the landlord of the cozy apartment as she paid. "He might end up in a lot of pain if people prod too hard. He'll...he'll be okay, just, don't ask him about what happened." The people of Raven's Roost might be nosy, but they also know when to not ask too many questions. "He's...he needs a home."

Now that, that was something they could do.

It took Magnus a few weeks to settle in, learn his surroundings. Since his apartment was paid in full by a woman claiming to be his sister, he didn't have to worry about paying off anything immediately. He could learn the town, find a job, and settle into his new start, though he was confused why he couldn't remember more about his family, or why he apparently chose to live so far from them.

Still, Magnus wasn't a man who could just sit idly around. No, he was someone who needed to do something. He just didn't know where to look for work. So far people here had been pleasant enough, but he also didn't know anything of them: he didn't know what their personalities were, people stopped gossiping when he walked in the room, and he didn't want to just saunter into a place and ask for work they might not be looking for.

He found himself wandering the tiny little park, a carefully kept thing for being high up and in the desert. The patch of grass was small, barely the same size as the main floor of one of the little houses built of stone and imported wood, but it was people's favorite place to go. A path bent near the one tree in the park, and despite the noontime hour, no one was really here. A heavy wind earlier in the week had knocked a branch out of the sprawling tree.

Magnus picked it up, turning it over in his hands. This would do. He had an itch to do something crafty lately, and this...this could be it. From his pocket, he drew his grandfather's knife, the only piece of a man he had no memory of any longer, and carefully whittled down a breaking point through the branch so he could have a smaller piece to work with.

He settled onto the grass, first carefully peeling away the layers of bark and inspecting the wood. Fully dried from the heat, no insects burrowing tunnels into it...perfect.

The rasp of metal against the grain of wood felt soothing, like a memory he couldn't quite reach, a memory of laughter and silliness between the times of sorrow. He couldn't remember at all what had brought such feelings of deep sorrow and loss forward, matched with such bright hope and love. It was frustrating. If he could just focus--

A sharp pain blossomed behind his eyes, and his knife slipped. A dull throb matched his heartbeat in his thumb, and instinctually he dropped the wood in his hand to be able to stick the wounded digit into his mouth to try and stop the pain. Shifting his thoughts from the half-forgotten memory to the stinging sensation, his headache faded out, and he could focus on the man standing in front of him.

"You alright there, son?" The man crouched down, picking up the dropped project as Magnus inspected the new little knife wound, peppered along his thumb with a few others.

"I'm fine sir. Just got lost in my memories a bit."

The older man in front of him chuckled. "We all have those days. Nice duck." He offered the project, and Magnus was surprised to find that he had carved it.

"Thanks." He took it back, turning it over and over. A few spots were still rough, he could refine those later. If only he has something more than a knife.

"You know," the man spoke up again. "I'm looking for an apprentice. I know you're new in town and haven't had a chance to get out there and ask, and if woodworking's just a hobby, I understand. But you have a real talent that needs just a bit of refinement, just like that duck, to see you really shine. I can't give you a paying job, but I can offer you a roof over your head and a bit more space to stretch than that apartment. All the tools you can ask for, scrap wood to practice on, plenty of space for your own projects, so long as you help with the bigger ones I get commissioned for."

Magnus blinked, surprised. "Oh. Oh! Yes, yes that'd be great, I'd...I'd love that!"

The man laughed, offering his hand. "Steven Waxmen." He took Steven's hand, shaking it firmly, but with such a great enthusiasm, the other man laughed.

"Magnus Burnsides."

"Come see me tomorrow, in the Craftsmen Corridor. Just as for the Waxmen's. People'll point you in the right direction. Show you 'round the place, then you can move in after dinner."

\---

Tomorrow seemed like an impossibly long time away. Magnus wasn't even sure he slept, but he had to, even if he woke at dawn, and fidgeted with possibly trying to pack his few belongings until it felt like a polite hour to go. Businesses wouldn't open for a couple of hours. Breakfast wouldn't take that long, and he was pretty sure there was an inn around the corner that was open all the time that he could go eat a leisurely meal at.

He had a small pouch of coin, and really that was just barely enough to cover the hearty meal he ended up ordering himself there, at that sleepy little restaurant. He chewed thoughtfully on his toast, inspecting the signs. He recognized the elf on that framed picture, autographed and everything. Nice. At least someone who worked here had met the celebrity traveling chef. It was good to know that Taako, his friend, was doing well. Maybe Taako had even visited here and would visit again...Who knew? It'd be good to see him again.

Magnus worked through his entire plate of food, leaving plenty of coin behind, as he headed back to his apartment to pack and wait out the last hour before it was okay to go. Finally, his time came, and he all but ran to the Craftsmen Corridor.

Despite still being early, the Corridor was lively. Already the sound of hammering against metal and wood, the thump-clack of looms, the smells of dyes, tanners, soaps. This...this felt right. Spacious but still crowded, the heart of a city where you could watch them work and all the non-grocery items would be found here. It felt more like home than Magnus had felt in the last few months.

He stopped a random person, asking which way to the Waxmen's. She smiled, pointing down the road and offering him simple instructions. With a grin and a truly heartfelt thanks, Magnus took his time wandering through the street, taking in every workshop and stall along the way. 

Before long, he found himself standing before a truly magnificent house. The frame was simple, but there was curling filigree worked into the eaves, where it wouldn't be noticed unless you looked for it, and even then only the best eyes could make out the level of detail. Every strut and support was sturdy and hand-forged with that same level of minute detail. It was pretty and practical, the best of both worlds. A large sign swayed from a bracket, declaring in small letters "The Waxmens" while under it were large letters, easily read from far away: "Hammer and Tongs."

The front of the house had two great bays open to the air, while the front door proper stood to the right side of it all, with a wrap-around porch that continued away from the door and around the corner. He wondered, idly, if perhaps, he could see the other side at some point. A quick glance at the left-hand workshop showed him blacksmithing tools and the forge proper, with a figure bent over to pile the coal onto the wide hearth. He crossed over to the next workshop, seeing all the wood-working tools he was familiar with. Planks of many different woods graced one wall in carefully divided brackets, where the heavy, large planks of timber ran across the bottom, off the ground, up to the handful of hanging baskets that held smaller sized pieces of wood for all uses. The other long wall displayed all the tools of the trade, carefully maintained with their own wood-worked handles polished to a high shine.

However, Magnus couldn't see Steven here at all. He frowned. Had he come to early? Well, he could always ask the other person.

Heading back to the smithy side, he stood, waiting patiently for the coals to be carefully spread evenly over the whole hearth...or at least he tried to be patient. It was hard to.

"Excuse me." He meant to just get their attention. The other person jumped, turning. He paused. She had bigger muscles than he did. That wasn't fair.

"Gods, man, you scared me." She laid a hand over her heart, breathing a sigh. "Sorry, not used to customers this early. What can I help you with?"

"I. Um. I'm looking for Steven?"

"Oh!" She smiled at him, pushing a loose strand of hair out of her face, leaving a coal smudge against her forehead. "Dad's having his morning coffee, I'm setting up the workshops. You must be the new apprentice?"

"Yeah. Magnus Burnsides." He offered her a hand, trying to be polite. She took it, her grip firm and calloused, but oh-so-warm.

"Julia Waxmen."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus discovers a new home

"Holy jeez, how do you get muscles that big." The statement dropped from his lips faster than Magnus could stop it. "Oh. Shit, sorry, that was rude--"

But Julia laughed, a bright bursting bubbling sound, like sunshine captured. "The honest answer or the fun one?"

"Both?"

She leaned in. "The real answer is I'm the tongs part of Hammer and Tongs....the blacksmith. The fun one? I tell them my mom's great-grandmother was an orc." Magnus laughed, hard and long.

"Was she?"

Julia started to respond, only for another voice to cut across hers. "Jules, I hear you talking, do we already have a customer?" Steven Waxmen stepped out of his house, holding a cup of coffee in his hands. "Oh! Magnus!"

"Good morning sir!"

"One of those early risers, then?" He chuckled, saluting with his mug. "I used to be, too. Then a rambunctious little girl who didn't want to go to sleep and woke me up earlier than the birds made me appreciate a solid lie-in."

"PAPA." Julia huffed, crossing her arms, to the sound of Steven laughing.

"Alright, alright. I'll let you get back to spreading your coal out, honey. Mrs. Ronet needs those hoops done for cooper's before tonight." She sighed, the universal sign of long-suffering of another's task-keeping. Instead of a retort, like Magnus had expected, she turned back to her work.

Steven, on the other hand, gestured to draw Magnus away. "We'll let her get to that while I give you a tour of the place."

"Why doesn't she just...pour a whole bucket into the hearth? Wouldn't that be faster to just get it ready?" 

The older man turned, arching an eyebrow. "I guess you've never had the blacksmith lecture. I'll save you from Julia's wrath: what is coal?"

"Uh. Flammable." 

"Mm. Would you say coal is dusty? Kind of hangs in the air?"

Magnus looked down at his hand, coated in a thin layer of coal dust from shaking Julia's hand. "Yeah, a bit."

"So, you pour a bucket of dusty, flammable objects...and strike a match...or cast a small, usually easily controlled spell to make flames..." Steven sipped his coffee, watching the younger man imagine the scenario, moment by moment, before a look of understanding and horror crossed his face.

"Oh. Yeah. The chance of....shit."

"Plus, that shit sucks to breathe in, and Jules doesn't need miner's lung." Magnus nodded. That would be awful. "Now, let's get you on a tour of this place."

Steven walked him through the house, pointing out common rooms. The kitchen was a small but open room, with a small table and a set of chairs. The living room was just as simple. Due to the size of the workshops, the rest of the house was up a flight of stairs. "Each of us really has a small wing to ourselves. Each of us has a bathroom and a bedroom." Steven pointed with his mug down the hall. The door down there had tell-tale soot marks around the handle. "That's Jules' room." He turned, walking away from her room, to stop between two other doors. "This one here is mine." He said, gesturing to the door on the right. "I have a view of the back. I like it that way, I'm not much of a people-watcher, but you seem like the sort who just enjoys seeing people. So, that door there is yours. Just try to keep it neat, don't let anything gross happen to it."

Magnus nodded in time with the people-watching commentary, then shook his head at the warnings. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered living in a too-small space with too-many-people who all got familiar and friendly fast. "I know better. My mama would have cuffed me upside the head if I didn't take care of myself, and I'd rather not have her appear out of nowhere and knock my sense out."

Steven laughed. "Feel free to figure out the nooks and crannies in your room, it'll take me a bit to work through my coffee. Come see me in the workshop and I'll get you started." Magnus nodded again, waiting for the older man to walk away before throwing open the door to his new room. 

It was spacious in a way his apartment could never be. A pair of large windows brought light into the room, making it feel cozy and open. There was already a bed, a bit dusty but in decent shape. Two doors graced the other end of the room. One was a decently large closet, though he would probably use that for storage. It wasn't like he had a ton of things anyway.

The other room was a bathroom. It was simple, but the tile was expertly crafted and laid in such a way that it felt like he was stepping onto a beach. Magnus' jaw dropped, taking in all the tiny details painted onto each tile to create a beautiful scene. He was going to have so many bubble baths in here.

He got down the stairs, slackjawed, to see Steven look up with a laugh buried under his hand. "I take it you saw the bathroom?" Magnus nodded. "Everything in the rooms was crafted by someone here in the Corridor. I'm far from the only woodworker in town, but no one else can do latticework like me, and no one else can get metal and wood to work so well as us. Still up for it?"

"For that bathroom alone, I'd jump off the pillars if you asked me to." Magnus was dead serious, but Steven laughed anyway.

"Right. Well, you're gonna get the basics, then we'll see what you excel at. I'll try to teach you other things outside your comfort zone, but a man's greatest skill can be the one that comes naturally to him if he loves it."

\---

It was this way that Magnus Burnsides settled into his new home. Over the weeks he learned new skills, learned more about the Waxmens, and found himself realizing that he was truly happy in a way he hadn't felt for a long time. The routine was second nature to him soon, and he learned to listen to the newest gossip as he worked.

Which is how he learned of the rising taxes keeping new people from moving in.

"Can't even get a new tenant," his former landlord groused to a patron as Magnus delivered a new table. "Taxes got so high for importing goods, a lot of the traveling merchants decided the route up to us wasn't worth the coin they had to pay to get in."

"Not even Neverwinter or Goldcliff is this bad," came the patron's response. "We all know why, too. Ever since...he...became gov'ner..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fire begins to burn in Raven's Roost

Magnus learned, over the weeks, of the governor of Raven's Roost, a man by the name of Kalen. Kalen had helped found Raven's Roost not that long ago, and was given the position of mayor...then worked up to the governor. At some point in there, he had thought himself unstoppable, and began to take them harder and harder, until now not only could they not import goods into the town, but they could barely pay the taxes they had now.

Between the rumors and hardships, Magnus realized something important too.

As the weeks turned to months since his arrival, and then months to seasons, he spent more time with Julia. From learning her forge, to helping her deliver orders, he learns her fierce business side, something her mother had shown but her father was too soft to maintain after her death. They spend more time together outside the workshop. Time talking, laughing and shopping, preparing meals for the three of them. She teaches him to haggle, a needed skill to feed him and still manage their taxes. The cooking comes naturally to Magnus, even if the recipes do not, and more often than not he manages to char the pan. He always gets too distracted, a little too invested in the stories he knows. If the names don't come out right, and he stumbles as he tries to find the names behind the blinding sudden headache, Julia never points it out to him. Instead, she offers new names, asks questions, and distracts him from trying to focus too hard. She's seen what happens before, what happens if she doesn't, and there's no sense in letting him get sick.

The most important part, is that they fall in love, slowly.

You see, the bonds that form between people can happen in so many ways. They can feel like the world has been tipped out from under you, or it could feel like that's just the way it always had been. Though Magnus couldn't remember why, he knew his bonds of friendship, mentorship, and partnership with the Waxmens was important. There was a deeper sense of connection that he struggled to find the words for. Something that was deeper than just that, but he couldn't figure it out.

It's not a world-shattering revelation, when the thought comes to Magnus, because he's felt it build over the months, just unable to put words to it. So when the word comes to him, it's a humbling truth.

He is in love with Julia Waxmen.

She feels like home.

The best part?

She loves him too.

It's not long after this that Magnus first brings up the topic of the rising taxes with them. "It's not fair. People can't survive like this."

Steven sighed, nodding, as he enjoyed a cup of coffee with the dessert that had left a warzone in the shape of a kitchen. He was certain there was flour over every surface, but he knew once he went to bed, his daughter and his apprentice would clean up after themselves. He needed a bath anyway. "I know they can't. A lot of the town came here, myself included, to get away from those unlivable taxes. Raven's Roost was supposed to be a place where we could just...come and build our lives, and live the simple ways we want to. Kalen's turned corrupt and...there's not much I can do for my old friend now."

Magnus started, surprised. "You were friends?"

"We were the ones who thought about founding the town. I gathered the people, Kalen handled the financial part. When time came to put someone in charge of overseeing it all, I offered the position to him. I wanted to just keep woodworking, and we had just had Jules only a few years before that. I had a family to take care of, and Kalen...well, he was a farmer with no next of kin but a good head for money. I thought it would be okay..." He leaned forward, covering his face with his free hand. "This is all my fault."

"Papa..." The tone in Julia's voice warned that he had said this before, but not in front of Magnus. "I keep telling you, it's not your fault."

"She's right, Steven. It's not like you knew this would happen and still put him in charge." The older man looked up, peering through his fingers with a smile.

"Thank you both. But...what can we do? We're just craftsmen. We can't leave the town we founded...a lot of us have no other place to go."

"There's plenty we can do." Magnus stood, grabbing the pot of coffee and refilling Steven's mug. "If we give up before we fight, well. That's not a fight at all. We're rolling over and letting it happen. And you know? I'm not so great at that."

That night, a rebellion is born.

The Rebellion of Raven's Roost, as it would be called in the local newspaper later, is born in a kitchen covered in flour, between three tired, dirty craftspeople. It is not a scream against a hurricane, nor the first rock thrown.

It is a conversation about what can be done. It is a conversation about how to involve everyone in the town, no matter who they are, no matter whether they're able to fight or not.

It is a discussion of right, wrong, and how to fix it. It's a discussion of how to ensure it stays fixed, well after it's passed.

It's a discussion on how to prevent this from ever happening again.

That night, a rebellion is born, and a war council takes its first shaking breath.

That night is also the night Julia first kisses Magnus, taking him by surprise as they clean the kitchen by candlelight. Her hand on his bicep, turning him with the gentle guiding pressure she uses to weave him through her workspace. She smiles, her eyes dancing with mischief as she asks him if she can kiss him. Of course she can, he thinks as he nods frantically. She leans down the slight difference in their heights, cupping his chin with one delicate hand to tilt his chin up, and her lips touch his. She lingers, just a moment too short for him to truly fall into her, but her lips taste of cinnamon and honey, from the sweet glazed dough that was their dessert, and the taste of hot metal, heated by a forgefire.

A bonfire starts in his chest, and if it wasn't for her pulling away with a gentle "goodnight", he would have vowed to follow her to the ends of the world.

Hell.

He would anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

For months, the rebellion begins its life being quietly spread. It's surprisingly easy; through word of mouth and just a casual comment about how it's so much harder these days when no one can afford to live. Isn't this town supposed to be free from this sort of ruler? What starts as a ripple in a pond builds and builds, until it's a tsunami crashing down upon the desert town. The only things that can stem the tide are action and answers.

Magnus is proud: for all that the rebellion is full of anger at the situation, it isn't bloodthirsty. They want this to end, not the end of someone's life. That doesn't mean the same for Kalen's guards. They aren't quiet townspeople, but rather the easily swayed greedy types that comprise of bandits. Even mercenaries have a better code of honor than these guards.

He takes care of them. If they act bravely in front of him, Julia backs him up. Magnus has the charisma and constitution to take the blows, but Julia has her mother's Warhammer, and nothing could put the fear of any god into a man so quickly as a large muscular pretty woman with a big damn hammer.

Only a month after the height of the rebellion's rise, with protests and demands for answers, the last of Kalen's hired goon squad flees. They march unto the governor's mansion, and the calm that had been with them turns to a cry for blood. It's only Steven who soothes the crowd, refusing to allow them to fall prey to that base desire, that complete outrage.

Kalen emerged, hearing the shouts, demanding to know what was going on, calling for his guards only to find himself alone. He cowered, fell, and stared up, defiantly. He was defeated, memorizing the faces of Julia and Magnus. He could hear the town cry for blood, for reparations to be paid by being shed upon the sandy stone.

Silence fell as Magnus spoke. Something in his heart, the memory of someone he was close to, someone he couldn't quite remember, declared a simple line. Someone whose face he couldn't remember, but he knew they were brave and caring, even when they were running from everything that should have broken them down, from everything that wanted to break them.

Their words echo, across time, in his voice.

"This can't be how we do this."

There's a slow wave of murmurs, but the town listened to him in a way they no longer listen to Kalen. Despite their rage, it's quelled in an instant, as Magnus and Julia escorted Kalen to the edge of the town. "Leave. Don't come back. I won't stop them next time." Magnus knows he'd still try. He doesn't like people dying, whether by his own hand or his indiscretion.

"Magnus is...is this really the right thing to do? Just letting him go? We could just jail him or...maybe we should have...?"

He shook his head, weaving his fingers between hers. "I don't think jail would be safe. Someone would kill him." He paused, shaking his head. "No, letting him go was the morally right thing, even if it wasn't the just thing. If I did what everyone expected and wanted...how does that make me any better than him?"

\---  
The first act Steven put together was for the town to vote on a new mayor, and a council. The council was broken up into people from different parts of Raven's Roost, to speak on the behalf of each part of town. Unsurprisingly, Steven was unanimously voted mayor.

 

"I can't," he argued from his seat at the dinner table, as Julia and Magnus prepared dinner, "I have too much to do--"

"Papa, Magnus does all your orders these days."

"You're too young--"

"Papa. I'm in my late 20s."

Steven paused. "I'm not cut out for leading the town." 

Julia groaned into her hands. Magnus just laughed. "I think the town knows otherwise. You could have other elections. It's not a for-life position. Besides, they want someone they can trust, who knows the town and the values it holds." That seemed to strengthen Steven's resolve, and he nodded.

"Alright."

\----

The town needed something new to remind them of the changes they had helped bring about. A new item for a new start. This was his project, his gift to the town. It had taken him the better part of the last week to draw up the blueprints for. Smiling as he hauled lumber to the park, Magnus couldn't help but be excited. He had told Julia the plans for his surprise, and she was going to help him build it and paint it.

A brand new gazebo. A little extra shade on a hot day, or a bit of cover from the surprise storms that sometimes blew through. They could have town-wide celebrations surrounding it.

A whistled song caught his attention, and Magnus looked up from where he was laying out the boards. Julia waved with a clenched hand, the other hand holding a large bag. "You're lucky nails are the first thing an apprentice smith learns, you know!" Her voice echoed softly through the small park, her volume dropping as she got closer. "I have a ton from when I was first starting out."

She kissed him, bold as brass. Magnus blushed, grinning wildly as she dropped the bag down next to his lumber. "Thanks, Jules."

"Of course!" She paused, fidgeting. He grew worried. Julia never fidgeted. "Magnus, I have a question for you."

"Yeah, what's up? Everything okay?" 

She gave a small, awkward smile as she dropped to one knee. "Magnus Burnsides, will you marry me?" From her clenched hand, she held out a small twist of metal. "I...I know it's not anything nice, since we're rebuilding and all, but...I...I thought that maybe..."

Magnus blinked, remembering to breathe. Oh. "Oh." Her face fell, worried, as he pulled her to her feet. The entire mass of Magnus collided with her, knocking the air from Julia's lungs. "Jules, of course I will! Why wouldn't I? I love you."

\---

"What if...what if she decides she doesn't want to." Magnus was struggling to breathe, to stay calm.

"Trust me. Julia does things her own way. Once she says something, she won't back down until it's done." Steven smiled, then looked over Magnus' shoulder. "I think, though, you should turn around."

The breath caught in his throat released.

There, leading a procession of the entire town, was Julia in her gown. All the people of the town had brought food, gifts, instruments...some were playing those instruments as they followed her. A gaggle of giggling kids helped hold Julia's wedding train aloft, so the delicate fabric wouldn't stain or tear on her way to him.

They had just finished building the gazebo last week. They hadn't sent out invitations, too wrapped up in feeling giddy and afraid that they might wake up from this dream if they told anyone. She made her way daintily up the steps, laughing as various voices called from the crowd.

"I made this just for you two!"

"You should have told us!"

"You think we weren't going to find out?"

Magnus laughed too, taking Julia's free hand as they turned from the crowd, to face her father.

"Dearly beloved..."

\----

The cart rumbled to a slow halt as they both took in the devastation.

They had been gone a month, and all that remained of Raven's Roost was where the governor's mansion had stood. The Craftsmen Corridor was gone, and a few lone stragglers were leaving in a small caravan.

"Hey...Hey!" Magnus shouted, chasing after them as Julia sat, in shock, on the cart. Her home. Gone. The gazebo they had built, the entire corridor and all those livelihoods...all those lives...

Fear struck her heart. Where had her father been in all this? Was he okay? What about all her friends, all the people--

The scuff of leather on stone pulled her from looking at the wreckage to Magnus' crestfallen face. Fresh tears were trailing down his cheeks, and he was barely holding back a sob.

"Maggie, is..."

He shook his head.

She knew, in a heartbeat, who had done this.

Julia cried.

\---

"Jules, I...I might know somewhere we can go. We...she's my sister...not actually my sister. But...basically my sister. She's...some of the only family I have left."

She nodded, blankly. Just when she had thoguht they couldn't lose more, they had. It was too much to think, right now. Even just looking at the chair they had meant for her was too much.

"She might know where we can stay. I can find work again." She felt Magnus' hands cup her cheeks, and she sighed, making herself focus on something other than this hollowness. His warmth and his care pulled her more towards herself.

"That sounds good, Mags. Let's go."


End file.
